


there is no use praying to a cruel god

by 2facedlovers



Category: Millennial Dreamland Project, Original Work
Genre: Corpses, Death, Gen, Religious Horror, Time Loop, Time Travel, fuck it, ooh! projection time <3, religious trauma, time fuckery in general, uhh what do i put as a warning when dealing with mentions of corpes, unreality, vent - Freeform, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:27:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25291633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2facedlovers/pseuds/2facedlovers
Summary: "My world as I knew it met its end centuries ago.And ever since witnessing it fade out, it has been rebuilt again and again in my dreams.And ever since it began rebuilding itself, I have been forced to watch it crumple over and over.Say, dear player,…would you like to see it end one last time?"Lilith knew better than to offer a lie.
Kudos: 5





	there is no use praying to a cruel god

**Author's Note:**

> this is a fic i created to vent with some religious trauma and overall derealization. if it isn't for you or you don't like it i understand! it was meant to express my frustrations.
> 
> the character in here is from an RPG in the making! i hope you all get to experience it in the near future.

Lilian’s earliest memories are ones of the very first runs of this world.

They remember skyscrapers and megacities; they remember life and glory and warm sunlight. Nowadays, the only rays of sunshine peeking through their windows make them shiver, and the cold runs down their veins to their very heart.

Lilian first began noticing changes in their appearance in timeline #532. They haven’t yet given up their kinder, softer attempts at changing the timeline but something bitter was tugging at their heart, and something searing hot was burning underneath their skin. Their eyes sting as they clasp them together to prevent the weariness from spilling out. Everything was fine.

**They look up to a false god and pray.**

Hundreds of timelines later Lilian was at the end of their patience and they felt their reality ripple. Memories would interweave and twist and they would layer and layer to the point they weren’t sure how things were supposed to be originally. Had their life been anything else but this? Stories of Lilians before this one, dreams of destruction and inevitability? Desperation pooling at their feet and climbing up their knees, reaching their waist and weighing them down? They held onto the hope that maybe just this time it would be different.

Walking around populated areas, they knew things went missing, people did as well. Why was nobody talking about the bookshop in the city center anymore? Or the beautiful singer who would bless the streets with her voice? Where had these people gone to? Why is everyone looking at me weirdly for bringing them up? Do they not care? What is happening? Why is reality bending at the edges and creasing? Why is there static in my head building up and bulging and straining against the very base of my skull and the frail bone is cracking underneath the pressure the marrow is bending and scarlet is seeping out of my nose and I cannot see clearly anymore-

_God sends me down to Earth and I ruin lives, I ruin my own, and I pray – I pray to He who does not listen that I am taken away._

_His eyes are cold, but His stare burns me brighter than a thousand suns_

Lilian drowned in timeline #1474. Lilith emerged from the black waves in the next one, a shell of their former self. Their knees were scraped raw and bleeding ink. They found there was no use kneeling and praying to a false god.

Of course, they blamed the adult one. Arevik V2107. The determined, the stubborn, the reckless, the hurting one. How dare he preach about trying to prevent the destruction of a world happening, when he himself could not be convinced of its saving?

_I grovel, I beg for forgiveness for sins I do not remember committing-_

This was Hell. It didn’t matter how straight-forward they were, or how stealthy and strategic they were. Nothing ever changed. The static was building up their throat, and the space between the world loads was filling up with hundreds of copies of their own corpse. They traversed on bones and decaying flesh until they dropped dead and their soul data jumped to a new host. There was no getting out of this.

They were in this void space again. Static and the sound of Rot wrapping its twisted limbs around the bodies of themselves. Their time would come soon, but it wasn’t like it changed anything. They have died so many times, why should this be any different? This vessel will physically expire, but within minutes they will be back in a world just a little worse than the last.

Exhaustion and stiffness began etching itself painfully into their bones and they slowed down. Lilith was supposed to be used to this by now, but there was no getting accustomed to something as human as the fear of The End, no matter how many times one goes through it.

Their knees buckle first and they’re sprawling face down on the pile of bodies. The next time they’re here they won’t be able to tell this vessel apart from the others. With their hands shaking, they slowly roll themselves on their back, facing towards the ceiling of the space that isn’t here. Blackness is warping in the corners of their vision.

**_I look up to a false God and this time He isn’t there._**


End file.
